


Fortunes

by ReadingJunkie96



Series: The Golden Age [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Definitely Merthur endgame, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Future!Arthur, Future!Merlin, King Merlin (Merlin), Magic Revealed, Minor Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Pining, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadingJunkie96/pseuds/ReadingJunkie96
Summary: “There have been multiple sightings of a herd of magical beasts from villages in the the Northern Plains” Leon looked harried “it seems they’re leaving behind a trail of complete wreckage. People are losing their homes, their crops. Wherever these beasts tread, it's being said that the land dies under them.”The doors to the great hall open.“Sire,” Lancelot nodded to Arthur in acknowledgement, walking in and picking up the tail end of the conversation, “I'm sorry I'm late. I was held back listening to some worrying reports from the East, by the Forest of Ascetir.”Arthur sighs heavily “Are the reports of the same beasts?”“Well no, not exactly…" Lancelot hesitated "The reports are of a different nature. It’s being said that the King of Camelot is staying in an inn near the Darkling Woods. And that he is on his way to Camelot.”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Golden Age [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746985
Comments: 125
Kudos: 796





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place towards the beginning of S5. Lancelot is alive and never entered the veil.

The call is for an emergency council meeting, Merlin overheard Leon telling Arthur at the door. There’s an urgent threat plaguing Camelot’s borders and it’s making its way towards the citadel. The threat involves sorcery. Merlin couldn’t help but close his eyes in resignation. Arthur had just decided to grant the druids freedom and peace a week ago. At every turn, whenever progress was being made, there was another sorcerer somewhere determined to ruin it. He dressed Arthur as quickly as possibly and they made their way to the council hall.

“Do you think it’s Morgana?” Arthur asked, seeming weary.

“I’m not sure,” said Merlin, taken by surprise. Arthur had been asking his opinion more and more of late. Merlin didn’t know what to make of it. “It doesn’t seem like it. Morgana’s methods usually have some kind of purpose. They revolve around taking Camelot, taking your crown. This just seems like blind aggression. It not her style.”

Arthur hummed in agreement, and they opened the doors to the council hall, where all but one of his knights were seated around the round table. Merlin stood to the side, next to one of the pillars behind Arthur.

“Where’s Lancelot?” Arthur asked Leon.

“He’s…investigating one of the other reports that came in. He should be here shortly with more information.”

“Alright then, Leon. Tell us what you’ve heard.”

“There have been multiple sightings of a herd of magical beasts from villages in the the Northern Plains” Leon looked harried “it seems they’re leaving behind a trail of complete wreckage. People are losing their homes, their crops. Wherever these beasts tread, it's being said that the land dies under them.”

The doors to the great hall open.

“Sire,” Lancelot nodded to Arthur in acknowledgement, walking in and picking up the tail end of the conversation, “I'm sorry I'm late. I was held back listening to some worrying reports from the East, by the Forest of Ascetir.”

Arthur sighs heavily “Are the reports of the same beasts?”

“Well no, not exactly…" Lancelot hesitated "The reports are of a different nature. It’s being said that the King of Camelot is staying in an inn near the Eastern Woods. And that he is on his way to Camelot.”

Arthur blinked, and looked down at himself, not sure if he heard properly. He looked back up. “Excuse me?”

“I wish I could explain it better, Sire.” Lancelot replied, “I would not have taken it seriously myself except that the reports come from traders who have been to Camelot before and have seen you speak in public processions. These imposters must be convincing. The traders report a man with your build, blond with blue eyes. He wears chainmail, and a cloak embellished with the Pendragon crest. He has a friend with him too- a noble. The man wears no chainmail or cloak but instead dons dark green robes embellished with an unrecognized royal crest. The two men are very private, apparently, and have revealed little to anyone since they arrived at the inn.”

Arthur paused. It is extraordinarily difficult to get the fabric and design of Camelot’s cloaks for anyone who is not a Camelot knight. These men must have stolen it. “Impersonating the King of Camelot is not a mere prank and those men will be dealt with once we find them- Leon, speak to the knights to find out if anyone has misplaced their cloak.” Leon nodded “However, while it is…disconcerting that a man is roaming around the outlying villages of Camelot pretending to me, I am more concerned about these beasts on the West. Do we know anything else about them?”

“They are big beasts, each about the size of 2 huts. They are grey and their eyes are a red-rimmed yellow. They travel in a pack, but they are able to disperse. The people have seen at most 4 at one time”

“So, there could be more?”

“Yes, Sire. It is likely there are more.”

“Gaius, have you heard of such creatures before?”

“Not that I know of. I shall have to consult my books, Sire.”

“See that you do. In the meantime, Leon take Lancelot and Percival and choose some of the other knights to scout the villages that have been damaged, record the extent of the damage and speak to the villagers to see what help we can provide. Ask them if they can give us any more information about these beasts. Also increase patrols in the area.”

The knights nodded. “Does anyone have anything else to add?” There was no response. “Then council is adjourned.”

Arthur walked back to his chambers, Merlin treading softly behind him. He turned around, confused, as he opened the door to his chambers. “You know Merlin, usually by now you’d be telling me what you think about this predicament and about all the other ways I could approach the situation.”

“And you’d be telling me to shut up.”

“Well, I’m not now, am I? So?” Arthur seemed frustrated. Getting Merlin to talk these days was like pulling teeth.

“You’re being cautious. You know running into these situations has only caused lives to be lost before so you’re gathering information first so you can prepare an attack when you know what you’ll be facing. You’re also keeping an eye on the villagers to make sure they’ll get what they need and not what you think they need.”

Arthur waited.

“There’s nothing I’d do differently, Sire” Merlin finished slowly, looking down, “We can only wait.”

“Okaay.” Arthur said slowly, watching Merlin return silently to the table to clear the dishes, “Have I done something to offend you?” Arthur asked.

“No, Sire” Merlin turned around, surprised.

“Alright,” Arthur gave up. “Take the rest of the day off to help Gaius find out more about these beasts we’re facing.” He rubbed his eyes wearily, “I’ll drop by in the evening.”

“Yes, Sire” Merlin didn’t know how to explain that he couldn’t talk anymore because every waking inch of him was worried that Arthur’s time was coming and it made him feel sick. He could feel it. He was consumed by it. Mordred was closer than ever in Camelot. Uniting Albion, ending the ban on Magic, telling Arthur about who he really was- as stressful as all that was, it took a back seat to this- and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Arthur watched Merlin leave the room, trying to remember the last time Merlin actually called him by his name.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well? Have you found anything?” Arthur asked, entering the physician’s rooms. Gaius and Merlin were speaking in hushed voices over some large tomes. Merlin looked up, startled and then shared a look with Gaius. Arthur sometimes quietly envied their relationship. He knew Merlin looked to Gaius as a father figure and he was glad Merlin had that, but he also wished dearly that he had someone who looked after him that way. 

Gaius nodded solemnly and looked at Arthur, gesturing to the table. Arthur sat down. 

“The creatures are called Krofancs,” Gaius said, pointing to a crude sketch in one of his books. “There have been reports of them from travelers coming in from secluded areas in lands far away from Camelot. How they reached Camelot, I am not certain, but no one has had any problems with them before. Usually, these are docile animals that live in forests in seclusion. It seems, however, that the beasts plaguing Camelot are not normal Krofancs. I’m afraid sorcery may indeed be involved here.”

“How can you tell?” 

“There are a couple of clues. Normal Krofancs don’t have red-rimmed eyes. These red-rimmed eyes suggest that the creatures we’re facing now are imbibed with strong, dark magic. The magic strengthens them and makes them more aggressive. It also makes their skin as tough as steel. The skin will not be penetrated with any average weapon.” 

“How are we to destroy them then?” Arthur leaned forward. 

“The easiest way will be to use the help of a powerful sorcerer who may be able to counteract the magic that has strengthened these creatures. Once magic is taken out of the equation, they will not be much of a threat.” 

Arthur hesitated. “What’s the other way?” 

Gaius frowned. “Through the eye, Sire. The creature’s eyes are not protected by skin when they are open, and so your weapons will be able penetrate them. If you shoot an arrow or strike a sword-”

“-through the eye, then I’ll be able to kill it.” Arthur finished, nodding his head. “I understand.” 

“Sire, I must warn you, that will be much more difficult to accomplish. If the creature blinks, or closes its eyes, your chance is lost. And we still don’t know how many of them there are. We know very little about them.” 

“We know enough, Gaius, and we have no other choice” Arthur said, seeming resigned, “unless you know another sorcerer willing to fight for Camelot.”

Gaius hesitated. “Sire, if you remember, I once practiced the Old Religion. I may be able to reach out to some old contacts to see if I can find someone who can help. With your permission.” 

Arthur stared at him. “The last sorcerer you brought me killed my father.” How could Gaius have forgotten? Merlin blanched behind him. 

Gaius paused. “Arthur, your father was dying. What could the sorcerer have achieved by killing him? I swear to you he did everything in his power to save Uther. It was just too late.”

Arthur sighed internally. He had pondered and deliberated on this matter endlessly since it happened and he had already accepted the logic of Gaius’s argument. He knew not all magic was evil. He knew his father was wrong about that, after everything that had happened since. After the druid boy in the shrine. But he knew the potential for power to corrupt and powerful sorcerers were near invincible. That worried him. But if he needed magic to destroy these beasts…if it would save his men…then he had to try. “Reach out to your contacts, Gaius. But don’t call anyone yet. I want to see these beasts for myself first.”

Gaius nodded and Arthur thought he’d heard enough, standing up and heading for the door. 

“There is one more thing” Gaius hesitated. “Wherever these beasts tread, the land underneath them ages, crops wither and die. Sire, I have not heard of this happening anywhere else, in any of my books, but I have a hypothesis as to why this is happening.” Gaius paused. “I wonder if maybe these creatures are not from our time”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, confused. 

“I’m saying it’s possible they may have been sent here not only from a different location, but from a different time.” 

***

“How much longer?” Merlin asked from his horse. 

“It’s not my fault you decided to transport us to an inn that’s a 2 days ride away from Camelot.” Arthur pondered how even after all these years hunting with him, Merlin could still be so terrible with directions. 

“I was focusing on traveling through time!” Merlin looked at Arthur, aghast, missing the days when Arthur was actually awed by Merlin’s power and magical ability. Now he just seemed expectant and almost bored. “Sorry if I wasn’t paying as much attention to space.”

Arthur smiled at him indulgently, “Yes, fine, I suppose that must have been difficult,” he allowed. He heard Merlin mutter something he knew was insolent. “What?” he asked. 

“I said be thankful I dropped us both at an inn and not you, alone, in the middle of the forest,” Merlin said, not bothering to lie. “Are you sure we should be going back to Camelot, Arthur? It’s a huge risk. We don’t know what the consequences might be. We can probably defeat the beasts on our own if you just give me some time to figure it out.”

“We know what the consequences will be. If things go the way they did before, when we were young, everything will turn out exactly as it should.” 

Merlin still looked worried. “But that’s the thing. I don’t remember much about how it turned out before, or even what happened back then. All I really know is that that we must have survived, because we're here now. Much of it has faded from my memory since we’ve arrived.” 

“From mine too,” Arthur said, confused, trying to grasp at and cling to the memories that seemed to be getting foggier by the minute, like an old dream. He paused to deliberate. “But we needed to come back to this time, Merlin. If nothing else, we know Camelot will fail without us, and we’ll likely fail without them. We need to find the beasts to kill them, and for that we need Camelot’s resources, its network.” 

“They might not believe us. And even if they do, they probably won’t trust us. From what I remember, magic was still banned in Camelot at this time. And even the young you will be able to figure out sorcery was involved with getting us here.” 

Arthur squared his shoulders indignantly, still somewhat embarrassed by his years of obliviousness. “Do you have any better ideas? Should we just roam around Camelot blindly until we happen to bump into the herd?” 

“No,” Merlin replied to both questions, sounding miserable. 

“We’ll be careful, Merlin,” Arthur relented, looking at his consort with concern. It was getting dark and he knew of a village less than a mile away with a bed and breakfast where they could rest for a few hours, bathe and eat. “Alright, a few hours rest and then we continue,” he said softly, turning his horse sideways. Merlin lit up and smiled at him. “If we plan our time well, we can still get to Camelot by dawn.” 

***

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear, later that night, “for trusting me to do this. It can’t have been easy for you, being dragged out of your own time at my whim.”

Arthur moved his head so his mouth lightly brushed Merlin’s forehead. Merlin could feel him smiling against his skin “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” Arthur's hand, which had been drawing shapes on Merlin’s lower back, reached around his hip to hold him closer. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to you, Merlin. If you get stuck here, I’d rather be stuck with you than anywhere else.” 

Merlin looked up, shocked for a moment, at Arthur. “Arthur, Camelot needs its King.”

“And Camelot will have both its Kings back soon enough, if I have anything to say about it,” Arthur acquiesced. “Me though. My place is with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Finally, they reach Camelot! I’ve decided that whenever young Merlin & Arthur are in a room with their future counterparts, the older versions will be referred to as Old Arthur & Old Merlin. Just makes it easier to write.

Gwaine, Elyan and Mordred looked like they’d been punched. Their swords had dropped to the ground and their arms hung limp and useless at their sides. Arthur looked up at them disapprovingly.

“You’re-” Elyan choked, looking at Arthur.  
“-And _you’re_ -” Gwaine interrupted lasciviously. The way Gwaine was looking at Merlin was frankly indecent, Arthur thought, pulling Merlin closer to his side. Merlin blushed as Gwaine shamelessly tried to twist around to get a better look at his backside. Arthur lamented that he couldn’t challenge Gwaine to a duel this time, since the knight probably wouldn’t even understand why his advances might be inappropriate. But it’s not like that ever stopped the knight anyway. Mordred was just staring at them both, looking as if he were in a trance. 

“Yes, we’ll catch up on all that later, Gwaine. Now, if you’re quite done ogling Merlin,” Gwaine finally turned to look at Arthur and smiled shamelessly, “We need to see Arthur- _your_ Arthur- privately.” They stood there. “Now.” Arthur stressed, “We don’t have much time.”

***

Arthur was, for the first time in a long time, gobsmacked into silence.

He looked at the man standing in front of him, and it was like looking at himself, but with subtle changes. This Arthur’s face was more lined. His hair was darker and longer and he wore a stubble to match. His eyes though, were the exact same shade of blue as always, and they were shining. His smile was warm. On the man’s left hand, he wore a beautiful silver ring patterned ornately with green gemstones. On his sword hilt, Arthur could see the markings of his own sword that he’d pulled out of the stone. _There was only ever one sword made that way_ , Arthur knew.

The true revelation though, was the man who stood next to him. Arthur recognized him in a heartbeat. This was Merlin, but not as Arthur knew him. This Merlin stool tall in robes of black and green velvet that fit him like a glove. His robe was lined with multiple inside pockets, and its high collar stood in stark contrast to his long neck. He carried no sword, but the belt around his waist held multiple knives. He also seemed older. His hair was longer, curling around his ears, and he carried himself differently- more open and relaxed. On his cloak, he wore an emblem of a bird, though it was of no house that Arthur recognized. He wore multiple bracelets, a silver chain around his neck (with a locket that was hidden under his vest) and a ring, patterned with blue gemstones. This Merlin was different. He looked royal and fey-like- almost ethereal. Arthur briefly felt a need to step back, to retreat, to look down. But at the same time, he felt he could barely tear his eyes away.

  
  
“What is this?” Arthur hissed after many minutes had passed, finally redirecting his gaze to Old Arthur who was smiling knowingly at him. He drew his sword.

Old Arthur raised his eyebrows in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Gaius. “Are you going to run us through? I assure you, that would be quite counterproductive.”

Arthur started, stepping forward-

“We can explain,” Old Merlin interjected, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. His voice was deep and smooth. “We’re only here to help. Maybe it would be best if we all sat down,” he suggested calmly.

Arthur hesitated, but nodded. As he sat down, he kept his sword unsheathed.

Once they were all seated, Old Merlin started to explain that they came here from the future to help defeat the Krofancs. The creatures were sent by a sorcerer named Ivorwolf, who had been steadily gaining power by abducting sorcerers in other cities and stealing their magic. This was dark magic, and the sorcerer often had to kill his victims to do this. He became corrupted and greedy as his victim count increased in number. But what he craved most of all- the victim he really wanted- was in Camelot. Camelot, however, was protected. There was a fight, and he lost. Before he died, he used his stolen dark power to create creatures of destruction- the Krofancs- to destroy Camelot. If he couldn’t get what he wanted, no one could. But he knew these creatures would not be able to destroy Camelot, not the way that it was- the citadel was too strong. So he used what was left of his power to send the creatures back in time as far as he could. To a time when he thought Camelot was weaker against the threat of sorcery. And then he died. 

Merlin finally spoke up from behind Arthur, making him jump. “If you know who the sorcerer is, then maybe we could track him down now. Kill him before he even starts. Then this whole problem would go away.”

Arthur frowned, looking at him. He was begrudgingly impressed. No doubt it was a good plan. But he wondered whether about the ethics of killing someone who hasn’t yet done anything wrong. He also wondered when Merlin started speaking so casually about murder.

“No!” Old Merlin interjected strongly, “If we stop him now, then the future we came from would cease to exist. WE might even cease to exist. Horrible fates await men who meddle with time. We need to be as cautious as possible so that we don’t make that mistake. Arthur and I will be telling you as little as possible about what we know of your futures. Also, there are rules that come with manipulating time this way. Rules that we need to abide by, or risk horrible consequences."   
  
"What sort of rules?" Arthur asked, narrowing his eyes.   
  
"Well, one of the rules, for example, is that we can’t touch each other. Specifically, he-” Old Merlin pointed to Old Arthur “can’t touch you, Arthur. And I can’t touch my younger self either.”

“Why not?” Arthur asked, genuinely intrigued. “What will happen if we touch?”

“I’m not really sure,” Old Merlin admitted hesitantly, “But the same person isn’t supposed to exist twice in one timeline. The force of the energy released from such contact may create a fracture in the universe. I suspect this would cause an explosion of some kind that would be strong enough to kill the people involved, in both timelines. Best not to risk it.”

Arthur agreed. “So how are you two supposed to help us?”

“We think we know how to defeat the creatures,” Old Arthur said, “We just need you to tell us where to find them. You have sentinels coming in every day with reports from all over the Citadel. We need that information.”

“Can’t you just remember what happened before?” Arthur asked, “Where you found them?”

“This period of our past is…blurry,” Old Arthur said hesitantly.

“We think it’s a way of sustaining the paradox of us being here. We’re not supposed to be here, so we’ve lost our memories, temporarily, of when we were last here,” Old Merlin said, “We don’t remember what happened,” he admitted finally.

This was a lot to take in. Arthur took a deep breath. “Alright, my knights will escort you to the guest chambers where you can freshen up. We’ll reconvene in the great hall in the afternoon when the rest of my knights get back, to discuss a plan. In the meantime, you will see no one, you will talk to no one. No one can know you’re here. There can’t be two Kings of Camelot. No one will know what to make of it and it will cause panic. Merlin will drop by soon to bring you food, water and anything else you may need.”

Old Arthur and Old Merlin exchanged a look and then Old Arthur nodded at him. “Very well.”

The door closed quietly behind them.

***

Arthur sat down at the head of the dining table, his head spinning.

“What do you make of all this, Gaius?” Arthur asked, turning to the court physician and gesturing to the chair in front of him. Gaius had been suspiciously quiet throughout this entire conversation. Now, he walked over to the chair and sat down. Merlin sat silently on the other side of the table, next to Arthur.

“I’m afraid, Sire, given recent events, it’s entirely plausible they’re telling the truth.”

“How can that be?” Arthur demanded, “He isn’t me. And Merlin certainly isn’t him,” he exclaimed, glancing briefly at Merlin, who pursed his lips, “They must be lying. Even if what they say is true, they still can't be trusted. there’s no way they could’ve done what they have- _traveled through time_ \- without using sorcery.”

“They’re us, Arthur” Merlin intervened quietly, “If we can’t trust ourselves, we can’t trust anyone.”

Arthur turned to him, and was taken aback by how guarded he looked compared to his older self, by how small he made himself. Even allowing for the change in attire, Merlin looked completely different. “We don’t know that they’re us,” he sighed. “Not for sure. This could be an illusion for all we know. A very detailed illusion, but an illusion nonetheless.”

“I know one way we can find out.”


	4. Chapter 4

Old Arthur went to answer the door as Old Merlin continued pouring over the maps.

“Merlin!” Old Arthur exclaimed with such delight that Merlin couldn’t help but smile back at him shyly. He was carrying a platter of simple meats, cheeses and fruits as well as a jug of wine. “Please, come in, you can set that down right there.” he said, pointing to the table. He was about to close the door behind him when the door was jammed. His smile dimmed slightly but was still warm as he held the door open for his younger counterpart, who appeared behind the doorway.

“So you’ll be staying in the same room, then?” Arthur asked, looking around. He directed his question to Old Arthur, somehow still unable to meet Old Merlin’s eyes.

“Yes, we find we’ll be more…productive that way,” Old Arthur said, “Merlin’s just looking through some maps behind me, checking if anything’s different from what we remember. Can we help you in any way? I thought we were supposed to meet later in the afternoon?”

“I need proof,” Arthur stated, getting straight to the point, “I need proof that you are who you say you are.” he hesitated. “I want you to tell me something about me only I would know.”

“I expected nothing less.” Old Arthur smiled, looking behind him. “Merlin, you said you needed to prepare the potion to take us back, did you not?”

“Hm?” Old Merlin asked, looking up from the maps. They looked at each other briefly and then he nodded. “Oh yes. Maybe Merlin here could take me to Gaius’s chambers? I’m sure you know the discreet routes better than I remember them.”

Merlin hesitated, looking at Arthur, who also nodded. The irony of the parallel exchange was not lost on Arthur.

Old Merlin threw on a cloak and looked at Merlin pointedly, until he finally yielded and escorted him out.

Now it was just the two of them. Old Arthur smiled at his younger self, and leaned against the bedpost.

“Tell me something only I would know,” Arthur repeated.

Old Arthur looked faraway, as if trying to catch a memory. Arthur could see the moment when it landed. “When you were a young boy, you struggled with riding.”

“I did not!” Arthur exclaimed indignantly.

His older self smiled, but otherwise continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “No one knew why, but one day you suddenly really wanted to learn how to ride. You were barely 4 years old, but you were determined. You were determined because you overheard a stablehand speak about how much Ygraine loved to ride her mare. Everyone knew she was excellent with horses, and you wanted to be like her. So, one day, when you were 5 years old, you put on a cloak and snuck out of your room when everyone was sleeping. You went through the servant’s quarters to avoid being seen and you took her horse from the stables. You lost the horse almost immediately, and had to spend the entire night searching for her. You weren’t able to ride her that first night. The second night, she let you ride her, but you realized you were absolutely terrible at it. You didn’t want anyone to know, so every night, when everyone else was sleeping, you would sneak out and try again, until finally one day you got better. And when you joined the knights for your first horse ride later that year, you chose her mare. Everyone spoke about how you ride just like your mother. It’s one of your fondest memories.”

Arthur smiled. He had never told anyone about that. Suddenly, he was calm. He realized he had no more doubts. This man was telling the truth. Suddenly, he burned with questions about his future. “What is to become of me?” he asked quietly.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Old Arthur answered, suddenly serious.

“Please, just tell me, am I happy?”

Old Arthur looked at him intently, “Happier than you ever imagined you could be.”

Arthur sighed with relief, something untwisting in his gut. “And you said Camelot was strong,” he said, questioning.

Old Arthur’s face brightened, and suddenly he looked younger “Camelot is flourishing. We have stability, we have peace. Our people are safe and happy. Yes, we still face the occasional threat but we are well equipped to deal with any threat that comes our way now.” Old Arthur reached up to rub the corner of his eye and something glinted on his hand.

“You wear a ring. Does this mean I’ve married?”

Old Arthur twisted the ring around his finger, smiling at a memory, “Yes.”

“For love?”

“As if you would ever have married, if not for love.”

“Who do I marry?” Arthur asked, curiosity burning. Once, he was sure it would have been Guinevere. She would have made a good queen: strong, smart, loyal, kind. But lately, he’d realized that he loved the idea of her as his queen more than he loved her. And he did love her, truly he did, but he could admit now, after all these years, that he was not in love with her, and he could not see himself marrying her. Over the past year, they’d been drifting as he became more and more consumed with running his kingdom. The proposal he’d planned kept getting delayed. Sometimes, they would go months without talking, and though he would occasionally miss her, he would rarely miss her enough to make the trip down to see her in the middle of his duties. Surely, if he were really in love with her, the distance would have affected him more. Surely, it would have hurt.

“Who do you think?” Old Arthur probed, leaning forward, searching for something in his eyes.

“…Guinevere?” Arthur asked.

"Oh." Old Arthur sighed, seeming disappointed. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Arthur admitted, feeling awful. “But I don’t have anyone else.”

“That’s not true.” Old Arthur looked at him, suddenly serious, “Guinevere and Lancelot are your friends. They cannot be together because she thinks she has to wait for you, because he believes that to be with her is to betray you. You need to decide what you want. You cannot watch them waste their lives waiting for you.”

“I know!” Arthur said, “I know,” he repeated more quietly. “They deserve to be together. To be happy together.”

“You deserve to have someone too.” Old Arthur said quietly. “Do not be alone, Arthur. You won’t do well alone.”

Arthur nodded. When he realized his future self wasn’t going to tell him any more, he moved on. “Do I have children? An heir?”

“You don’t have a child. Not yet. But we have…methods. And we have reason to believe we might have one soon.” Old Arthur smiled secretively, “You do, however, have a regent. Someone you trust, and someone who loves you. For now, that is enough.”

Arthur looked at him consideringly. “There’s one thing that’s been bothering me since you got here.” He paused. “I believe that you’re me, now but…how can I trust you? When I know that the only way you could be here is through sorcery?”

“Do you believe magic is evil?” Old Arthur asked, his voice deceptively light.

Arthur thought of all the magical threats he and his kingdom have faced, the immortal army, the questing beast, the drought. But then his thoughts brought him back to the druid boy, so fresh in his memory, his willingness to forgive Arthur for allowing him to be killed in cold blood. “No.”

“Do you believe those who use it are evil?”

Arthur thought of Morgana, and of all the other sorcerers who had tried to kill him. He hesitated. “Sometimes”

“And do you believe that I’m evil?”

Arthur looked at him, considering. This man may be him, but in many ways, he still had no idea who he was. What had happened in all the years, likely over a decade, that separated him from this man.

Old Arthur looked at him thoughtfully, “Let me rephrase. Do you think Merlin’s evil? That he could ever hurt you or would ever wish you ill?”

“No.” Arthur replied, almost without thinking.

Old Arthur nodded. “Then trust him, if not me,” he implored.

“He’s different though,” Arthur said, “He’s not your servant anymore.”

Old Arthur snorted. “He was never really my servant. But yes, officially, he holds a different position at court now. Though he still won’t let anyone else dress me, or polish my armor." Old Arthur's eyes became fond, "In fact, he still does most of things for me he did before, just...other things too now...” Old Arthur drifted, looking at the table and the maps. “Speaking of Merlin- since he’s not here, I could use your help figuring out an attack strategy before the afternoon council meeting. You can tell me where the sightings have been and we can try to find a pattern.”

He wasn’t dismissing him, but Arthur knew that was the end of that conversation. Probably for the best. He had a lot to think about. And it certainly wouldn't do to have _Merlin_ helping his future self with the battle strategy, of all people. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will likely be from Merlin's POV, but it might take me longer to post as I'll be busy over the next couple of days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Chapter 5! We’re starting to get into the deeper end of the story now. I just want you guys to know I really appreciate you all, and all of the comments and the kudos. If any of you guys have any suggestions about ways I could make the story better, or if there are any grammar issues you've identified (the story's unbeta'd), please let me know in the comment section and I'll make the corrections and take all the advice on board! Thanks again.

“Come on!” Merlin said to…himself, he supposed, leading the way to Gaius’s chambers. Old Merlin was strolling leisurely behind him, whistling happily and not being inconspicuous at all. Merlin frowned at him, and thanked the gods that the hallway was empty.

“You can relax. I’ve spelled us so that no one will pay attention to us or what we’re saying,” Old Merlin said, looking amused. “Is there a reason you’re in a rush?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Are you trying to get us both killed?” he asked heatedly. It might have been a hypothetical question for all the response he got. He looked at the corridor behind him. He did not want to leave Arthur in that room with that Arthur from the future, but he didn’t know what choice he had. All he could do was to hurry up with whatever job he was assigned so he could get back and stop that room from spontaneously combusting with the pressure of two Arthur Pendragons.

“You should give him more credit,” Old Merlin said, catching up to him, “He can look after himself, when he needs to.”

Merlin hesitated. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Merlin did not speak again, or indeed make any sound, until they had reached their destination. He could not say the same for the man behind him though, who had been cheerfully whistling an annoying tune all the way down to the physician’s quarters, looking wide-eyed down at the courtyard below him whenever they crossed a window. “It all looks the same and yet it feels so different,” he said, shivering.

Merlin didn’t respond.

“Gaius!” Merlin called, slamming the door behind his older self to shield him from sight. “We need your help.”

Gaius looked up from where he was crushing herbs. “Extraordinary,” he said, looking at Old Merlin.

“Hello Gaius,” Old Merlin said warmly, reaching out to him for a hug, “How are you?”

“Quite well,” Gaius said, stiffening momentarily but returning the hug. “Is it true then? You’ve come from the future to help us?”

“I’m afraid so. Desperate times, desperate measures.” Old Merlin shrugged his shoulders and grinned unconcernedly in a way that made him look almost like Merlin did the first time he came to Camelot. Gaius felt a strong need to protect wash over him.

“How can I help?”

“I need to prepare a potion to take me and Arthur back to our time. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. I know what I need and I know where everything is. I only need your permission to access your stores.”

“You have it,” Gaius answered solemnly, stepping back and allowing Merlin access to his store room.

“Right.” Old Merlin rolled his shoulders back and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get started then,” he said as his eyes flashed bright gold. Gaius and Merlin gasped as pots and containers lifted themselves from the shelves and a cheerful orange flame caught behind them in the hearth. A bowl of water settled calmly above it, and started to boil. Different colored powders poured into different bowls and were mixed with various spoons. Whole ingredients were being crushed on one side of the table with a mortar and pestle to create pastes. And on the very corner of the table, a notebook fell open and a pen was writing down a list of all the ingredients being used as well as the estimated cost burden. The pen itself would sometimes pause as if it were questioning and go back to the bottles to double check.

Gaius stood in shock as Merlin’s looked worriedly at the door.

“It’s locked,” Old Merlin said, catching his eye, “And soundproofed.”

“Oh…Ok.” Merlin replied.

“I know this all seems rather chaotic, but when I leave with the final potion later today, everything will go back to exactly how I found it,” Merlin said, listening with some consternation at the cacophony of sounds, “With the exception of the missing ingredients unfortunately. We probably won’t have time to replace those, but Arthur and I will refund you for everything we use from your inventory, Gaius” Old Merlin assured him, looking down at the list of ingredients and amounts taken. Then pen paused and turned sideways, as if looking at him for approval. Old Merlin nodded at it and it returned to writing.

Merlin could swear it was standing up straighter.

“Thank you…Merlin,” Gaius said, looking gobsmacked.

“No, thank you Gaius,” Old Merlin smiled back, “for all you’ve done for me.”

Merlin looked between the two of them, his jaw dropping. “This is madness.”

“Merlin-” Gaius tried to intervene.

“No! Surely you don’t think Arthur will believe that we created such a potion without sorcery!” Merlin exclaimed, “This is time travel. He may be gullible at times, but he’s not an idiot.”

“I never said he was,” Old Merlin looked surprised, “I actually wasn’t planning to tell him how I made it at all.”

Merlin paused. “That could work.” He hesitated. “What if he asks?”

Now Old Merlin hesitated, “I don’t think he will,” he said, thinking, “He didn’t even blink when Arthur told him I need to come here to prepare the potion.” Old Merlin paused, seeming sad for a moment, “Believe it or not, Merlin, Arthur is surprisingly perceptive. But when it comes to you, he’s always trusted you so implicitly he would never think to question you. I can’t be certain, but I think that trust extends to me. For now, anyway. If he does ask though, I’ll tell him…I’ll tell him that he is supposed to acquire this knowledge of how the potion is made on a journey he takes in his future. That I cannot tell him how it was made now for fear of changing that future. And that includes whether it involved sorcery, or any magical object. And you and Gaius can tell him I did not allow you to see how I made it.”

Merlin quieted. “What if your Arthur asks?”

Old Merlin looked at him shrewdly, his eyes glinting. “What are you really trying to ask me, Merlin?”

Merlin shrinked back.

Old Merlin sighed. “He knows, Merlin. Of course, he knows.”

“When?” Merlin asked, trembling. “How?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Old Merlin replied, with an air of finality. The faucet turned on behind them and some of the pots began cleaning themselves.

“Your power has grown,” Gaius said, looking awed.

“I don’t know that it’s grown, but I think now I can access it better. I have more knowledge and I can understand it, control it, appreciate it in a way I couldn’t before.” Old Merlin paused, looking at Merlin intently, “We have a couple of hours while the potion brews. If you'd like, perhaps I could...Perhaps I could teach you?”

Merlin blinked at him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt something besides fear and worry rise up inside him. He felt anticipation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter! As always, suggestions and advice and corrections are more than welcome.

The door to the physician’s quarters opened quite abruptly, and Merlin jumped and squealed in the corner of the room, dropping 3 knives to the floor at the same time. He turned to look at the door and had almost had a heart attack when he saw who it was. 

“Really, Merlin?” Old Arthur asked exasperatedly, closing the door behind him. “So, while I spent the last few hours pouring over maps and trying to make connections to figure out where our next move should be, you were down here throwing knives at a wall?”

Merlin opened his mouth to apologize, but Arthur walked right past him. Old Merlin looked up at him sheepishly from under his lashes. “Sorry,” he murmured, “just trying to make sure he’s prepared in case I need back up.” They both looked at Merlin. 

“You told me the door was locked.” Merlin said reproachfully. 

“Oh yeah. It is, it’s just…Arthur’s kind of immune to my magic now,” he shrugged, smiling slightly, “It’ll be locked for anyone else- including your Arthur.”

Merlin felt his cheeks become warm for no discernable reason. 

“The potion’s done?” Old Arthur asked Old Merlin. 

Old Merlin smiled at him and showed him two small vials half-way filled with a purplish liquid. He tucked them into one of the pockets of his robe. Old Arthur nodded at him and turned around. 

“How’s the training going?” Arthur asked Merlin kindly, wrapping an arm around Old Merlin’s waist. 

“Umm, not bad, I think.” Merlin replied nervously. Old Merlin nodded along with him. “He’s improving.”

“Will you show me?” Arthur asked, eyes lighting up. 

Merlin hesitated but then realized that he really really wanted to. He needed to. For once he knew he could show Arthur his magic without worrying about consequences, without worrying about not being accepted. His eyes flashed gold and the three knives levitated off the floor. Old Merlin was teaching him to close his eyes and feel the room, but he wanted to see Arthur’s expression so he looked directly at him as Arthur leaned forward, following the knives with interest. The three targets were at three ends of the room, beyond his line of sight. He concentrated on them and pushed outward, hoping the knives would reach their targets. Arthur looked around at the targets and smiled appreciatively. “Very good.” Merlin felt lighter than air. 

“I wish I could let you continue but the patrol is back and we need to go to the council hall for the meeting,” he said regretfully, “Merlin and I will be leaving as soon as it’s over. That’ll be at least one headache off your shoulders, hey Merlin?” 

Merlin’s felt something in his gut clench uncomfortably. 

***

“Sire, the situation has become dire,” Leon said seriously, “We believe there are more creatures than were previously reported. We estimate now that there may be around 15.”

Old Merlin sucked in a breath. That was much more than he expected. The knights that had returned from the patrol had been caught up on what had happened in Camelot in their absence and it was a testament to their anxiety over what they found that they barely blinked an eye at the strange turn of events with Old Merlin and Arthur. 

“They are as described,” Leon continued, “and making their way towards the main citadel. They ruined every territory they came across. So far, we have been lucky that they’ve traveled on mainly deserted lands, but that will soon no longer be the case. We have not seen them eat or drink. It seems they require no sustenance. Their only goal seems to be destruction. They have tusks that disintegrate whatever they touch- trees, towers, everything. They leave the lands they roam barren and empty. We were however, able to discover that that they are attracted to fire. It cannot hurt them, but we were able to use it to draw one out, isolate it momentarily, to see if we could defeat it. However, even against that one creature, our swords were useless. Swinging against it was like swinging against a metal wall. We never got a clear shot at its eyes either, and all of the arrows we used bounced off them,” Leon said, sounding strained, “Our only saving grace is that they’re slow creatures. We were able to outride them on our horses.”

Arthur rubbed at his temple, thinking, wondering how on earth they were to defeat this new threat. Luckily though, he was no longer the only authority in the room. 

“What do you think?” he asked, turning to his future self, “You came here to help us with this, did you not?” 

Old Arthur looked at him and sighed. “Merlin?” he redirected. 

Old Merlin looked at him seriously. “We do have a way to defeat them, yes, but one at a time. We were not anticipating such large numbers. For now, I think our best bet would be to isolate them, redirect them- just temporarily. We need to draw them into an area and trap them there.” 

“And then you can kill them?” Arthur asked, still incredulous in the back of his mind that he was addressing this question to Merlin. 

“Possibly, yes.” Old Merlin replied. “We’ll do everything we can.” 

“How?”

Old Merlin looked at Old Arthur, who said assertively “We can’t tell you’ll that. We can only tell you that you acquired a means, sometime in your future, that may be used to defeat these creatures and that we plan to use it to help you now. You’ll have to trust us.”

Arthur didn’t like it, and from the muttering around the table, neither did his council. 

He had no doubt they’d like his plan B even less. He turned to Gaius. 

“Gaius, you said that these were creatures of magic.” The table quieted. 

“Dark magic, yes.” Gaius nodded at him. 

Arthur paused, knowing his father would usually approach Gaius privately to manage such issues, but he wanted to be different. These were his most trusted men and he wanted to be able to be honest with them. They deserved to know their options if they would sacrifice their lives for his cause. “And that perhaps, if we were to find a sorcerer willing to help us, we might be able to counteract that magic and defeat them.” 

Murmuring broke out again amongst the men at the table, but Arthur resolutely did not look around at them. Camelot was in danger and he would do everything he could to protect his people, regardless of how uncomfortable it made him feel. 

“I thought it was possible, Sire, but when I looked into it…the magic in these creatures is very powerful. And there are 15 of them. I know of no sorcerer powerful enough to defeat them.”

Arthur closed his eyes, feeling helpless. Then they had no other choice. “So be it,” he said. “Leon, do you think we’ll be able to isolate them? Draw them into a clearing?” 

Leon hesitated. “We’ll do everything we can,” he echoed. 

***

“You seem worried,” Old Arthur came up behind Old Merlin and rubbed his arms as he finished packing their things. 

Merlin sighed “I don’t know how the sorcerer managed to create so many krofancs. I thought it would’ve taken all his stolen magic just to create 1. But 15…I don’t know if even I have enough magic to defeat that many.”

Arthur frowned. “What if we had two of you? Could you teach your past self to help you?” 

Merlin shook his head. “It still wouldn’t be enough. We still won’t have enough power. And anyway, he doesn’t have the training yet to conduct such a spell. He’s more likely to hurt himself trying to help.” Merlin rubbed his eyes, feeling tired. 

“Maybe we can enlist Arthur and his knights to help after all. Maybe we don’t have go off on our own this time.”

“I think we’ll have to use their help. At least to get the krofancs isolated. But we can’t work too closely with them, or we’ll need explain what we’re doing.” Merlin paused. “I’m just at a loss to explain how the sorcerer managed to get access to this much magic. I felt his aura before he died, Arthur, he was not this strong. And if I’m wrong, if he actually was this strong, why didn’t he just attack us in our own time? Even with our defenses, we would’ve struggled to defeat him.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted. “But we’ll figure it out,” he continued, trying to sound reassuring. “We always do…”

***

Arthur decided that given the circumstances, there was no point in bringing a battalion of knights. They were more or less helpless anyway. According to his future self, all he needed to do was redirect the krofancs to an isolated space. He decided to take a few of his most trusted knights, Merlin, and his only hope to defeat these creatures- the visitors from the future- with him. Arthur visited Gaius and asked him to reach out to any contacts he might have, just in case this didn’t work. And then there was only one thing Arthur had left to do, he realized looking uncomfortably at Lancelot as they dressed in their armor. They left the castle later that afternoon, anxious to get moving. 

“It should be no more than a day’s ride now,” Arthur said, looking behind him at his troupe. “We’ll scout for the beasts first, and then once we’ve located them all and gathered them in a group, we’ll find a way to draw them up the grey mountains. They” Arthur pointed at Old Arthur and Old Merlin, who were whispering to each other at the back of the troupe. “will be waiting for them at a clearing on the top.”  
The knights nodded in acquiescence. 

“Sire,” Leon said, riding closer to him and lowering his voice. “Are you sure about this? We have no plan.”

“I don’t like it either Leon, but they’re refusing to tell us their methods and we have nothing we can bargain.” Arthur whispered back, “We have no reason yet to distrust them yet and they’re our only hope.” Arthur hesitated. 

“Is there something else?” Leon asked, leaning forward. 

“If we fail, we’ll need to evacuate Camelot. The krofancs are creatures of destruction, but they are contained within the borders of Camelot. We need to seek refuge for our people outside its borders.”

“Queen Annis?” Leon asked.

“Perhaps. I’ve sent some envoys. We should have an answer by the time we return.” 

Leon made a pained sound. “If we leave…if we allow them to do to all of Camelot what they have done to the outlying villages…”

“Camelot will be lost,” Arthur confirmed stoically, his grip tightening around his reigns, “but her people will not be.”

Merlin remained quiet, riding in Arthur’s shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't move the plot forward much and is more focused on relationships but I promise the next chapter will bring us back down to business! And thanks again everyone for all the kind words.

They’d fortunately only come across one group of bandits as they trudged through the forest, and the knights were barely off their horses before most of the group dropped dead in front of them. Arthur’s jaw dropped as he looked closer at the, now effectively dead, bandits strewn in front of them and he saw knives poking out of their chests. He looked around for the culprit when he heard a whistling sound pass next to his right ear. Another knife had flown past him and hit the bandit that was coming up behind him straight in the left side of his chest, directly into his heart, effectively ensuring he wouldn’t be getting back up. He looked behind him to where Old Merlin and Old Arthur were now fighting back to back against the last two bandits. Old Merlin, who had no sword, was brandishing two more knives in his hands and his cape was billowing behind him as he moved. Where are they even coming from, Arthur wondered about the knives, as Old Merlin ducked swiftly and gracefully under a swing of the last bandit’s sword and slit his throat from behind him. He sheathed the knife into his pocket as the bandit fell to the ground in front of him and turned around to check on his companion, brushing something off his shoulder and straightening his cape. The man was dangerous, Arthur realized, feeling a chill pass through him as the striking duo walked side-by-side back to their horses. Old Merlin picked up his scattered knives as he came back, cleaning them against the grass and sheathing them into various pockets.

He looked around and saw Merlin gawking at them as well from beside him, looking rather green and as if he were about to fall off his horse. For some reason, it made him feel a little better. The rest of his knights shrugged at each other and slowly got back onto their horses, feeling rather perplexed.

“Where did you learn to throw like that?” Arthur asked Old Merlin, somewhat breathlessly. Ironic since the other man didn’t even look slightly out of breath. Instead, his lips quirked.

“I keep telling you, I have many talents,” he replied, winking mischievously at Arthur. Old Arthur choked on air next to him, and usually Arthur would laugh at that too, but this time he saw no reason to. Arthur remembered Merlin telling him that before, but that time he was referring to juggling- which was quite different- and…saving Arthur from being taken by Morgana’s men. Was that how Merlin did it? He looked again at his Merlin, who was still looking slightly green and thought No. It couldn’t have been.

“Maybe we have a chance after all,” Leon murmured to him as Arthur got back onto his horse.

They managed to hunt along the way before they settled down in a clearing near a lake for the night. Percival and Elyan took first watch, Old Arthur and Merlin decided to go further out into the forest to collect some firewood, and Merlin started a fire to cook dinner before helping the knights put up their tents. They realized then, that they’d run into another problem.

“Merlin,” Arthur said exasperatedly, cuffing him around the head, “Have you forgotten how to count?”

“Umm,” Merlin looked around the camp, scratching his head. They were one tent short. “I don’t know what happened.”

“If you think you’re sharing with me again-”

“I don’t want to share with you! You snore.”

“Merlin can share with me,” Gwaine piped up from where he was skinning a rabbit by the fire. Merlin smiled at him, gratefully.

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Arthur said, barely sparing him a glance, “I do not snore, Merlin. Maybe you’ve been knocked around the head too many times and now you’re hearing things.”

“Well who’s fault is that then?!” Merlin asked, his voice becoming alarmingly high-pitched.

“Gentlemen,” came a smooth voice from the trees. Old Arthur and Merlin had returned to the camp, arms full of firewood and looking slightly ruffled. Gwaine snickered. “Is there a problem?” Old Arthur asked. Old Merlin looked at them curiously, but Arthur was studiously avoiding looking at him.

Arthur sighed. “Merlin here forgot to pack a tent so we’re one short. I’m just resigning myself to not getting another good night’s sleep until we get back because my idiot manservant doesn’t have an inside voice.” Arthur said, glaring at Merlin, who glared straight back.

Old Arthur frowned. “There’s no need for that. Merlin and I will be sharing our tent. We prefer to pack light and we figured we’d only need one tent between us.” He said, smiling at his companion.

“Oh,” Arthur said, feeling wrong-footed.

“And maybe in future,” Old Arthur continued calmly, leaning over to put the firewood down, “you might ask some more questions before throwing accusations like that.” He and Old Merlin sat next to Gwaine and started helping him prepare the food. Arthur blushed, but conceded it was a fair point and retreated to the lake, deciding he wanted to freshen up before dinner.

“Sorry about that,” Old Arthur said earnestly to Merlin, who had sat down and started skewering the rabbits to place over the fire.

“Thanks,” Merlin replied, smiling slightly at him, “He’s a prat but I’m grateful he becomes less of one in the future.”

“Well, I had help,” Old Arthur said lightly, nudging Old Merlin with his elbow, who smiled back warmly at him.

“What did I have to do? Drug you?” Merlin asked teasingly, feeling suddenly, irrationally jealous of himself.

Old Arthur chuckled, “In a way.” he paused, considering. “When you told me how you really felt about me- that definitely helped.”

Merlin stiffened and the group became so silent that they could hear Lancelot shuffling around in his tent that was 10 feet away.

“I’m going to go…read a book or something.” Gwaine said, sounding strained. He ducked into his tent, abandoning his rabbit.

Old Merlin rolled his eyes in an exaggerated movement, trying to diffuse the tension. “Gwaine read a book? I think we broke him.” The other two didn’t laugh. Old Arthur was still staring at Merlin intently, waiting for a response.

“He already knows,” Merlin finally choked out.

“Oh, Merlin,” Old Arthur sighed, his voice delicate, “He really, really doesn’t.”

Merlin looked up at him incredulously “How can he possibly not know?”

“Well…at the risk of insulting myself, I have historically been painfully oblivious when it comes to you. I’m trying to do better now,” he continued, glancing at his Merlin who had been suspiciously silent for this whole interaction and was now staring at the floor, avoiding his gaze, “but I needed more than a few hints back then.”

“He loves Gwen.” Merlin said, his mouth set into a firm line. Old Arthur stared at him.

“He ended his relationship with Gwen before we left.”

“What!?” Merlin paled, “Why? How do you know?” _Why didn’t he tell me?_ was he really wanted to know. Not that he could blame him. He knew he’d been…a bit more distant of late. He felt horrible about that now, knowing his friend was hurting. He should’ve been there for him.

Old Arthur sighed. “I saw him walking to her rooms before we left.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Merlin said, shaking his head, “Maybe he was wishing her farewell and telling her he’ll be back for her soon,” Merlin felt like the ground underneath him had disappeared and he was trying to find solid footing again.

“No, he wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” Old Merlin interjected, “Are you getting your memories back?”

“No,” Old Arthur admitted, looking at him. “But I know myself.” He looked back at Merlin “You should tell him,” he pushed again, “how you really feel.”

“Arthur-” Old Merlin said warningly.

“I can’t,” Merlin said, his voice cracking, sounding so hurt and broken that Old Arthur forgot what he was trying to accomplish with this conversation. “I can’t,” Merlin continued, voice surer this time, but his eyes wet, “because even if, by some miracle, he does feel the same way, it’ll only hurt him more when he finds out…when he finds out what I am. It’s better this way.”

Merlin dropped what he was doing, and retreated into his tent. Old Arthur watched him go as a terrible understanding settled into his bones. He’s distancing himself on purpose, he realized. Merlin was never afraid of being hurt, he was afraid of hurting Arthur. He looked beside him at _his_ Merlin, who had started trembling. He leaned closer to him, and rubbed small circles onto his back.

“Merlin,” he started. “Are you alright?”

Merlin sighed out a shaky breath and steadied his voice. “It’s just…I remember being him, now. I was so afraid all the time. Of all the ways I could hurt you, or lose you. I didn’t know how to protect you without using my magic and I was afraid of having to leave you if I did, if you banished me. I was so consumed by fear and I hated myself for how much I’d lied to you and how much I knew I could hurt you.” Merlin sighed. “I know you mean well, Arthur, but you need to stop. We can’t help him now.” Merlin reached out to take Arthur’s other hand between both of his own, and squeezed it reassuringly. “If it’s meant to be, they’ll find their own way. As we found ours.”

***

Merlin sat in his tent, feeling weak and foolish and hungry. He would look at them, Arthur and him, the way they were in the future, and he would ache. They gave him hope. Hope that Arthur would live, that he would accept his magic, that he might even be able to one day love him in a way he’d never even dared to dream about. But it almost made him feel worse because now he had something to lose, something that wasn’t even real, or tangible. He couldn’t reach it, or hold it, or savor it. He doesn’t know the path to take to get to where they are. He wants to tell Arthur who he really is, that he has magic, but he knows that the moment he does, he’ll break Arthur’s heart. He couldn’t do that to him. And if he doesn’t do that, he won’t be able to tell Arthur how he feels about him either. How he’s felt about him for as long as he can remember. It wouldn’t be fair. And it hurt even more now that he knows his feelings may even be reciprocated, but he’ll probably never get the chance to find out.

Merlin didn’t know how long he lay in his tent, listening to the knights as gathered outside for dinner. He couldn’t face them. He couldn’t face anyone. Eventually, the sounds died down and he heard the sound of a zipper opening. A blonde head peaked into the tent and his treacherous heart leapt.

“There you are!” Arthur smiled at him. “Should’ve figure you’d be lazing about, doing nothing useful.”

Arthur squeezed into his tiny tent with him, and bent his head cockishly to one side.

“I saved you some dinner,” he said, holding out a bowl with some of the rabbit meat and cheese, looking awkward. Merlin took it with thanks. “Sorry about earlier,” Arthur continued, shuffling his feet in front of him.

Merlin stared for a minute and then remembered, laughing out loud. Arthur grinned back at him. “It’s alright. I knew you were a prat when I agreed to be your servant.”

“It’s an honor to be my manservant, Merlin,” Arthur said irritably, “I am the King.” Arthur broke out into a snort, “My father never even asked you if you wanted the position, did he?”

“Not once,” Merlin replied, grinning, “but the job’s grown on me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Arthur said, looking up at him, “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice turning serious.

Merlin looked up at him, touched by the concern.

“The future you and me…they’re a bit much,” he said truthfully, his voice quiet.

Arthur snorted, “Tell me about it. But they’re not us,” he said earnestly, “We’re us,” he continued, gesturing between them. “And we’re not beholden to become them.” Arthur said, looking far-away. He shook his head and looked at Merlin seriously. “Merlin, I don’t expect you to become him. I want you to just…be you. And I’ll be me. And we’ll see where that takes us.”

“I can do that,” Merlin said softly, smiling.

“Good,” Arthur said, with an air of finality, getting up. “When you’re done eating, you need to clean the dishes, rub down the horses, sharpen my sword and get my clothes ready for tomorrow,” he said, leaving the tent and not looking back behind him.

“Yes, _Sire_ ,” he called out after him, inflecting the word with as much mockery as possible.

He was rewarded with hearing Arthur chuckling from a distance as he walked back to his tent.

When he finally fell asleep, deeper into the night, he was smiling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry that this chapter came out a bit later than I expected, but will post the next one soon as I'm almost done with it. Hope you all enjoy the read! Xx

The plan was supposed to be simple. Arthur and his knights would split up and scout for the krofancs by scaling a one-mile perimeter around where they were predicted to be. They would identify them all and then draw them to a clearing with fire, and then Old Arthur and Old Merlin would use whatever means they had collected to defeat them.

It was raining.

Arthur swore, swinging his sword at a tree. Visibility was poor and they needed to find shelter. There was a cave at the base of the mountain, hidden by some foliage.

“Let’s take cover!” he called to his troupe, admitting defeat.

His knights followed him as he rode on to the cave, but Old Merlin and Arthur were hanging back. “Are you coming?” he called, hoping his voice would carry over the howling wind.

“We’ll catch up with you.” Old Arthur yelled back, turning around and heading back with Old Merlin into the trees.

Idiots, Arthur thought, taking a minute to stare after their backs. What do they think they’re doing? He itched to follow them, but the sad truth was that he had little to no jurisdiction over those two and he had to look after his men first. “Come on, then,” he said to them, looking resigned, leading the way into the cave and shaking out the water from his hair.

***

“Any time now, Merlin,” Old Arthur called exasperatedly to Old Merlin. Immediately, the rain stopped above him and his clothes dried up and were warm as if they’d been out in the sun all day. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, sitting back comfortably in his saddle, surrounded by a heated bubble. “So, can you sense them?”

Merlin reached out with his mind, trying to sense the dark magic. “East,” he said, trying to estimate a distance. “About 2 miles, I think.”

“Anything you can do about the sound?” Arthur asked, flinching as the thunder struck again behind him.

“Perhaps, but I’d have to block out all sound beyond the bubble and…”

“We don’t want to do that. We want to be aware of what’s around us,” Arthur nodded in agreement as he watched Merlin magic up a fire to attract the krofancs in his right hand. It had the added advantage of increasing visibility.

“So, let’s go over this again.” Arthur started, “You’ll say the spell to temporarily hold back the dark magic in the krofancs. Once that’s done, on your signal, I’ll kill them with my sword,” Arthur recited, one hand palming Excalibur, “And once I’m done killing them, you’ll let the dark magic back into their bodies.”

Merlin nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“Should I go for the eye?”

“They should be fairly vulnerable once the dark magic’s removed so you can just go for what’s easiest. Maybe the neck. It should be an easy kill.”

They rode in comfortable silence for another half hour.

“It’s weird being back here, isn’t it? Merlin asked him, sounding strange.

“I miss home,” Arthur agreed, looking at Merlin from underneath his lashes. “but I have you. That’s all I really need.”

Merlin smiled at him wistfully. “Maybe if we have trouble getting back, we can go live in a farm somewhere for the next couple of years until those two dollopheads go back in time in our place- and then we can come back to the castle.”

This was far from the first time Arthur had imagined it. No duties, no responsibilities, no weight on his shoulders. Just him and Merlin, living off the land in a cottage, with all the time in the world. “That sounds nice,” he said quietly.

“But you’re not making me do all the work,” Merlin said assertively.

Arthur snorted. “As if you’d actually do any of the work I asked you to do. You’d just magic up everything we’d need instead.”

“True,” Merlin grinned, but before he could say anything more, Arthur signaled him to be quiet and gestured towards the trees around them.

It was subtle, but there was another sound in the air around them beside the patter of raindrops, the howling of the wind and the roar of thunder. A deep, earthy hum.

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and he used his Sight to look into the forest around him. He could see them, their eyes striking in the blackness of the forest around them. “They’re coming,” he told Arthur, scaling a circular perimeter to find the others. “From all sides” he realized, starting to panic. “The first one will come from there,” he said, pointing to a spot next to them in the trees. He turned his horse and then edged closer to Arthur so that they were side by side. The horses whinnied uneasily. Arthur watched as the trees in front of them disintegrated and then they saw the first krofanc approach slowly, dwarfing them. Merlin start to chant, his voice deep and guttural in a way Arthur had come to recognize and he steadied his horse and raised his sword. He would likely have to go for the belly or the legs, as there was no way he’d be able to reach the head or neck. A spherical, shiny, gold light emitted from the center of Merlin body and projected outwards to cover Arthur and then was directed towards the krofanc, which suddenly stopped in its progress, seemingly hitting a barrier. The creature pushed its horns against the barrier to no avail, becoming frustrated. Arthur could see smoke coming out of its nostrils as it bared its yellowing teeth. He inched his horse in front of Merlin, but turned around when Merlin gasped in pain.

“Merlin?” he asked, looking concerned.

Merlin’s brows were furrowed in concentration, but his palms were pressed to both sides of his head as though he were in pain. His spell seemed to be complete, but when Arthur turned around, the krofanc was unchanged, still trying to break through the golden barrier. Suddenly, the fire Merlin had created went out, plunging them into darkness. The only light came from the faint golden rim of magic that the beast was pushing up against, trying to get past.

“It’s dark magic, Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice strained, “It _hurts_.” Merlin’s face paled and he swayed on his horse.

Arthur cursed and made a split-second decision. He got off his horse, and got up behind Merlin instead, steadying him as he watched his own horse run into the forest. He hoped it would survive the night. He wrapped his arms around Merlin comfortingly. “I’m here,” he breathed in his ear, one arm steadying Merlin around the middle and another covering one of his hands on the reign. It was then that Arthur heard a noise behind him and looked around to watch a distant tree disintegrate behind him into ash. His stomach dropped. He turned around to tell Merlin when he noticed that the krofanc in front of them had gotten its head past the golden barrier Merlin had been projecting. But the beast stopped in its progress, no longer fighting against the golden light. Instead, the golden light was pushing through it, encasing it, and the animal was looking around, confused. Arthur looked up and noticed with some relief that its eyes were now brown. Merlin gasped again in pain, and suddenly Arthur felt the rain on his skin again, felt the wind whip against him. “I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered, shaking in his arms, “It’s taking too much magic.” Merlin’s breath became shallow.

“We’re getting out of here,” Arthur replied, looking behind him briefly to see more trees disintegrate behind him, this time closer. He rode forward, ducking under the creature and slicing through its belly, hoping it would do the trick. He looked behind him briefly when he heard it fall to the floor, and watched with horror as the creature disintegrated and the krofanc behind it stepped forward. He turned around and rode as fast as he could through the trees, feeling dread as Merlin’s body became limp in his arms.

***

They’ve been gone for hours, Arthur thought worriedly as he paced back and forth in the cave. The cave was large, and his knights had assembled their tents for additional protection against the biting chill of the wind, but they were all sitting on logs outside of them now, waiting with concern for their friends to come back.

“Should we send someone after them?” Lancelot asked, readying himself.

“No, it’s no use. We won’t be able to see or track anything out there,” Arthur said, frustrated. He shouldn’t have allowed them to go. They were his only hope and now they were missing.

He heard a branch break in the distance, and looked up, hopefully. “Help!” Gwaine called, stumbling into the cave with an arm around Old Merlin’s waist, who- Arthur’s stomach dropped - looked like death itself. Old Arthur was supporting him from the other side, his hair drenched and his eyes wild.

“Where’s the fire?!” Old Arthur called angrily, setting Old Merlin down against a log, and undressing him. “Someone get me some dry clothes.”

“The wood’s too damp, we couldn’t set one,” Arthur said, feeling awful. He checked for injuries but Old Merlin didn’t seem to have any. He started feeling for a pulse as Gwaine ran to his satchel to get some clothes and a dry cloth. It was faint, but it was there. Arthur didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until he could suddenly breath again.

Old Arthur made a sound of distress and looked around. “Maybe you just aren’t good at starting one,” he told Arthur distractedly, and looked at the young Merlin standing behind them, “Merlin, you give it a shot.”

Merlin panicked behind him as everyone turned towards him. “I tried earlier, I couldn’t do it,” he said pointedly.

Old Arthur glared at him and grit his teeth but turned away, scanning the cave. “Mordred, then,” he called, redirecting his attentions. “You give it a shot.”

Mordred paled, but approached the empty hearth with a splint.

“The rest of you,” he called to everyone else, making them turn around, “Help me get these off.”

Arthur jumped as a fire started behind him, warming his back. He nodded approvingly, with no small amount of surprise, at Mordred who gave him a tight smile back.

“Where did you both go?” he asked, watching his future self pull a grey tunic over Old Merlin’s head with practiced ease.

“To kill the krofancs,” Old Arthur replied, sounding drained. “We failed.”


	9. Chapter 9

Old Arthur recounted the pertinent events of the night in somewhat of a daze, admitting that they’d managed to defeat one but they were nowhere near strong to kill the whole herd. Arthur had already spoken to Leon about leaving at first light to ensure safe evacuation of the citadel, feeling horribly helpless. He would stay, he decided. And if that meant he would die, so be it. He would die protecting this land and her people. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or distressed that his knights promised that they would stay and fight beside him.

He sat by the fire, watching as his future self huddled Old Merlin into a corner and recruited Mordred to help treat him using the medical supplies Gaius had sent with Merlin. He couldn’t see what they were doing but soon enough Mordred drew away and Arthur could see, with great relief, that the pink had returned to Old Merlin’s cheeks. Old Arthur clapped Mordred on the shoulder and settled down closer to fire with his companion.

Arthur looked over to where Lancelot was sitting by the fire, also watching them, his face unreadable. He knew he owed Lancelot a conversation. And he knew there may be no other time.

“Lancelot,” he acknowledged with a bow of his head, “Is there room for one more?”

“Of course, Sire,” he said, moving over to give him some room.

Arthur hesitated once he sat down, unsure how to start. “I wished to speak with you about Guinevere.”

Lancelot fidgeted. “What about her?”

“She loves you,” he said, getting straight to the point. “Very much. More than she does me, I think. And recently, I’ve come to realize that I don’t love her. Not in the way that I thought I did,” he paused, looking at Lancelot who didn’t look surprised. Instead, Lancelot nodded expectantly, and gestured for Arthur to continue. Arthur did, clearing his throat “I’m sorry. For the part I played in keeping you two apart. I came here to tell you that we ended things before I left Camelot for this mission. When we return- if we return- the two of you have my blessing to pursue something more.”

Arthur knew he’d done the right thing ending his relationship with her when he looked up and saw the way Lancelot’s eyes lit up. It was not easy, Arthur thought, breaking up with Guinevere after all the history they shared. She was understandably upset, but she’d also seemed resigned to his decision, and didn’t push him to change his mind. They both knew this was a long time coming. What once may have been real between them had become a charade. They both deserved more. He’d felt a weight lift off his shoulders when their relationship ended, and he was happy that, by the end of that conversation, they decided they could still be friends.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Lancelot said earnestly, “I understand. And there’s nothing to forgive.”

“You’re a good man, Lancelot. You two will be happy together. I can only hope that one day, I’ll be fortunate enough to find someone as well.”

Lancelot stared at him consideringly. “Arthur, when you two ended your relationship..."

What?” Arthur prodded.

“You're telling me it had nothing to do with…” Lancelot gestured to where Old Arthur was sitting on a log next to the opposite side of the fire. Old Merlin was curled up sleeping next to him, his head on his chest.

Arthur looked at him questioningly. "He pushed me to make a decision, yes, but he didn't tell me what to do, if that's what you're asking. This is my decision, not his."

“No, that's not what I meant.” Lancelot said softly, “Arthur, when you look at them, what do you see?”

Arthur seemed somewhat disoriented by the change in the direction of the conversation and looked over again to where Lancelot had pointed. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asked curiously.

Now Lancelot looked at him incredulously and Arthur had suspected that he was missing something that was obvious.

“What is it?” Arthur asked again, seriously.

Lancelot opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, sounding pained, “Arthur, just…take a moment to look at them. At the way they are with each other.” And Arthur did.

He looked at the way Old Arthur held Old Merlin closely to his side, arm curled protectively around him while he slept, preventing him from slipping out of his hold. He looked at the way Old Merlin had his face tucked in to Old Arthur’s neck. To the way Old Arthur’s other hand stroked his arm and smoothed his hair back from his face. To the way he whispered to him and the way he'd occasionally turn to press his lips to Old Merlin's forehead. Suddenly, he realized what he was supposed to be looking at. Suddenly, he recognized his mother’s wedding ring on Old Merlin’s finger.

“Oh,” Arthur breathed, feeling as if he was intruding on something private but unable to look away.

Lancelot fought the urge to roll his eyes and bid Arthur goodbye, walking back to his tent to get a good night’s sleep. “They’re wearing matching wedding bands,” Gwaine said to Lancelot as he passed him by his tent, shaking his head with disbelief and looking at Arthur where he sat frozen on his log by the fire, staring at his future self with dawning comprehension. “How do you even miss that?”

Lancelot sighed, ducking into his tent. Arthur may be highly intelligent when it came to things like battle strategy and court politics, but in areas of the heart, he could be glaringly oblivious.

***

“And I told the cook’s son that no, I will not be sneaking him any pies because his mother is a force to be reckoned with and I will be definitely be out of a job if I get on her bad side. I would, right? You’d probably fire me if Cook asked you to.” Merlin looked at Arthur expectantly.

“I suppose,” Arthur replied from his bedroll, watching Merlin polish his armor in the corner of his tent.

“Although I feel bad because Gwaine tricked me into stealing some for him earlier, but that’s Gwaine and surely as the cook’s son, Warner gets enough of her cooking at home anyway, right?” Merlin continued, seeming unconcerned about his impending loss of employment. “It’s not exactly like he’s starv-”

“Merlin-” Arthur interrupted.

“Yes, Sire?” Merlin asked, looking up at him.

Arthur wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Usually, he’d tell Merlin what he discovered and ask for his advice, but this time, he wanted advice on Merlin. He’d been watching Merlin since he got back into to the tent. The idiot didn’t even realize, transitioning from one story to the next and barely looking up. Arthur could’ve left the tent and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

He couldn’t get his head around it. _This_ is who he marries? His councilors would give him absolute hell. It wasn't unheard of for foreign kings to take male consorts, but it had never been done in Camelot. In fact, Arthur was quite sure it was still illegal- one of those antiquated, almost forgotten laws that he hadn't gotten around to reviewing yet. If his future self was married to Merlin, it meant that at some point in his future, he had decided to _change the law_ for Merlin. To break decades of tradition and custom. It would be a bureaucratic nightmare. But still, the revelation didn't shock him as much as he thought it would. He had always gone to extreme lengths for those he cared for, and, in spite of everything, there was no denying that he cared deeply for his manservant. And then there was the other aspect of actually _being married to Merlin._ He supposed he didn't mind that bit much. Merlin, in spite of how often he refused to admit it, was already a friend, and already nagged him as much as any wife would. And Merlin was probably the only person in the world he could truly trust to never betray him. The man’s loyalty knew no bounds. He drank poison for him, stayed by his side when he went to fight a dragon, when he went to fight the knights of Medir. Merlin even jumped in front of the Dorocha to save his life. “I will protect you,” he said once, “or die at your side.” Arthur wasn’t even surprised to hear him say it- grateful, yes- but not surprised. He’d already known Merlin cared for him, enough to risk his life for him over and over, and he knew he’d do the same for Merlin. He HAD done the same for Merlin, multiple times over. He's just never really taken the time or pains to examine why. 

He knows that he does, truly, love Merlin, in a way he never really knew how to express, because he could barely explain it to himself and he'd studiously avoided trying to explain it to anyone else. Merlin was annoying and insolent and incompetent (though perhaps, Arthur admitted grudgingly, less so now than he was when they met) and rarely did as he was told, but sometimes he was the only thing keeping Arthur sane. He was also the only friend Arthur could really count on to always give him his honest opinion, and often Arthur was surprised to find his advice wise, and his counsel intelligent. Merlin also had a heart of gold, and Arthur knew he looked to Merlin frequently to guide his conscience, to tell him the right thing to do- since the day they met and Merlin, a peasant boy he had never met before, had stepped in to stop him bullying Morris. Arthur had admired him for that, and over the next few weeks, they grew closer- despite his best efforts- until they came to a point where Arthur no longer knew where Merlin ended and he began. A bond was created between them- an energy as unshakeable and undeniable as the sun, and it frightened him enough that he'd been running from it ever since the beginning. But he didn't want to run anymore, and he didn't know that he even still could. Not after this. Not after being confronted so blatantly with what could be, with all the possibilities. _"Happier than you ever imagined you could be,_ " he remembered his older self saying as he'd twirled his wedding ring around his finger. 

Arthur didn’t know who he was without Merlin, and he’d never stopped to imagine it, but the thought of it now left him feeling cold and gapingly empty. Instead, he thought about the future that was staring him right in the face. He saw Merlin at his right-hand side, a steady, comforting, warm presence, for the rest of his life, balancing him. It felt natural. It felt right. He thought about waking up to Merlin in the morning, about ruling beside him, about allowing himself to love him, embrace him, and he felt his stomach flutter excitedly as something slot into place- something new, something right...something powerful. But he was afraid. What if he tried to take this step, and they lost the solid friendship they'd taken years to build? A king didn't exactly have friends to spare.

Merlin was now looking at him curiously, and Arthur realized he was still waiting for answer. Arthur looked back at him with new eyes, at his raven black hair, sharp cheekbones and angular jawline, at the curve of his lips, the slope of his neck, and the deep, dark blue of his eyes. Merlin was _beautiful_ , he realized as his breath hitched. And he was _his_. Suddenly, Arthur wanted to mark him. He wanted to claim him. He wanted to keep him. The strength of his desire surprised him. 

“We could die tomorrow,” Arthur said, because Merlin too, he realized with a tightening in his chest, had stayed back to fight with him, to be by his side. Merlin didn’t even need to make that promise, because they both knew there was never any question. 

Merlin’s grin faded. “I know,” he said seriously. He hesitated. “Are you afraid?”

“Not of dying,” Arthur whispered, walking over to him from his bedroll. The pull was undeniable, now that he had acknowledged it. He pushed his armor out of Merlin’s hands. Merlin looked up at him from under his lashes. He was confused, unsure what to do with his now-empty hands. “Arthur?” he asked questioningly.

Arthur cupped Merlin’s face in his hands stroked his cheekbones reverently with his thumbs, seeing Merlin's lashes flutter under his ministrations as his mouth fell open in a surprised gasp. Arthur leaned forward, close enough that he could count the freckles on Merlin’s nose. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of Merlin’s breath on his lips and paused. Merlin was looking straight at him, breathing deeply, wonder in his eyes. He only had time to notice a faint ring of gold around Merlin’s irises, when he was being pulled down from the front of his tunic. Merlin surged forward and their lips met. 

***

Arthur felt a tingling, warming sensation rush through his body all the way down to his toes. For a moment, Merlin’s lips, soft, dry and slightly chapped, barely moved against his. Then their lips began to move and he felt Merlin mouth open pliantly to his. He lifted his hand to support Merlin’s jaw and deepen the kiss, feeling fire burn though him as their tongues met. Merlin moaned softly, wanting, and the sound was so delicious that Arthur tried to swallow it down. He twisted them so that they were lying down and he pressed his body down against Merlin’s.  
  
Arthur could feel electricity in every inch of their bodies where they touched. He pressed his thigh further into Merlin’s groin where he felt evidence of Merlin’s arousal, relishing in the sounds he was making, in the realization that he was responsible for them. Arthur took a moment to marvel at the responsiveness of the man lying beneath him. He pulled back, needing to look at him, to see him, and he found Merlin looking back at him reverently- trust, desire and something far more fragile shining brightly in his eyes. Arthur, in turn, felt something rise up inside him, something warm and full and tender that made his throat close up and his chest tighten uncomfortably. Feeling as though he would die if he didn't, he kissed Merlin again, softly and sweetly, feeling attuned- now- to the quick rise and fall of Merlin's chest, to the pounding of his heart. Arthur wanted to _hear_ him again, he thought, sucking Merlin’s tongue into his mouth and tightening his fingers in his hair. Merlin gasped, arching his whole body upwards into Arthur’s, and Arthur used the opportunity to move to nibble his ear and kiss down his jaw, across his neck, separating his mouth only to pull Merlin’s neckerchief off his neck with undisguised irritation. Merlin’s fingers twisted in his hair and pulled him back to his neck. Arthur latched on gratefully with his teeth, nipping and gently sucking marks into that long, unblemished plane of skin. But Arthur couldn’t get close enough. The way Merlin felt and tasted, the way he smelled, of sandalwood and spice, it was intoxicating. He wanted _more_ , he thought fiercely, pulling away slightly to unbuckle Merlin’s waist belt and reach a hand inside Merlin's tunic. He needed access to all that hidden, secret skin. Arthur wanted to melt into him, into his warm heat and soft skin and pliant mouth, and never, ever, be separated.

Which is why it crushed him when he felt one of Merlin's hands feebly push against his chest. 

Arthur leaned black, slightly disoriented, somewhat dizzy with need and desire. Merlin looked debauched. His hair was in disarray, his eyes wild, his lips bitten red, marks forming on his neck. Arthur had kissed people before- men and women both- but never before had he let himself get so carried away, never before was he this aggressive with his passion- and this was _Merlin_. His best friend deserved better. “I - I'm sorry-” he told Merlin, scrambling back a step, wanting to give Merlin some space to breath, but reluctant to put any more distance between them then there needed to be.

“No, Arthur- I’m fine. That was...more than fine actually,” Merlin rushed to reassure him, sitting up, and Arthur's heart lept at the words, but then he noticed that Merlin's eyes were wet. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. 

“I just…I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Arthur waited but Merlin said nothing.

“Is it because of Gwen?”

Merlin looked up at him searchingly, twisting his fingers into his tunic. Arthur remembered the feeling of those long fingers twisting his hair, eliciting spikes of pain and pleasure. He swallowed against a suddenly dry throat, feeling a strange yearning in his chest. “No, it’s not,” Merlin answered slowly, “I know you two aren't together anymore.”

Arthur hesitated, something clenching in his gut “Is there someone else for you?”

Merlin looked up at him, surprise etched on to the lines of his face “No! No, Arthur- just you. It's always only been you.”

Arthur looked up at him in shock, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through his body. _How long?_ he wondered, watching the man in front of him with soaring affection. He felt whatever it was in his gut untwist and flutter excitedly and sighed a breath of relief. "There's only you for me too," he said, realizing at the same time that the fact was undeniable. Was that what had caused Merlin to push him away? He feared Arthur wasn't serious about him? Arthur laughed in exasperation and leaned forward to kiss Merlin again, only to have him shuffle away once more.  
  
“What is it?” he asked, slightly impatient. He’d just discovered something glorious and he wanted to get back to it. But he took a breath to steady himself. Merlin deserved more than that from him. He had to be patient. “What’s bothering you?” he asked again, his voice gentler this time.

Merlin looked at him, and then looked down at his lap, biting his lips anxiously. Arthur waited in tortured silence as the minutes trickled by. “What if I told you…that I was keeping a secret from you?”

“I would say you’re terrible at keeping secrets, so I probably already know,” Arthur joked lightly. When Merlin didn’t laugh, he sighed, and sat up. “I would say…that all men have their secrets, and that I’m under no illusion that you don’t have your fair share.”

“What if I told you that this is an important one…that I’m scared that you’ll hate me when you find out," Merlin's voice cracked. "And that you’ll hate me even more if I let this” he continued, gesturing between the two of them “happen between us. Because you’ll be disgusted with me when you find out who I really am.”

“ _Merlin,_ ” Arthur protested, feeling the word curl deliciously in his mouth, carrying a whole new meaning. He stared at him incredulously, concern clouding his features and sat up straighter. “I could never hate you,” he said softly, “How could you possibly think that?” 

Merlin stared at him, looking for something in his eyes. Arthur decided he must have found it because the next moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself and held his hands out cupped in front of him. 

“ _Forbearnan_ ” Merlin whispered, opening his eyes and Arthur saw them flash bright gold as a small, bright orange flame erupted in his palms.

Merlin looked at him then, tears blurring his eyes, which had receded into their deep-sea blue, worry etched into the lines of his face. “I’m a…I’m a sorcerer”

And that’s when Arthur’s world came crashing down.


	10. Chapter 10

“I have m-magic,” Merlin continued, “And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

Arthur sat frozen.

“I would never betray you. I would rather die. You have to believe me.”

Arthur’s head was spinning. _Merlin’s a sorcerer_. His bumbling, awkward, trips-over-his-own-feet manservant, his best friend, who he’d trusted with his life time and time again, who he himself would lay down his own life for in a heartbeat, who he'd just discovered he was _in love with_ , was a lie. It couldn't be, he thought, it seemed too cruel- but he knew it was true. He _saw_ it. He'd have to be the worst kind of fool to deny it now. Arthur felt a sense of interminable loss. He felt suddenly hollow, and like he was falling, and would never land. The betrayals he’d experienced with Morgana and Agravaine were nothing compared to this. He looked up in front of him, at this man who had created this charade, this stranger who wore his best friend’s face, taunting him with everything he had loved and lost, and felt rage burn inside him. Arthur’s hand inched towards the hilt of his sword, and he watched as the man’s eyes tracked the movement and widened in something resembling fear. But then, the man swallowed, steeled himself, and kneeled in front of Arthur, closing his eyes and bowing his head in front of him.

“My life is, always has been, and will always be yours, my king.” Arthur’s hand fell from the hilt of his sword. He gritted his teeth together, wanting to yell at this man, wanting to somehow make him hurt as much as he was hurting. But no matter angry he was, he could not kill a man wearing the face of the one he loved. Even if that love was a lie.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” the man said, still looking at the floor. “I’m so sorry.” He sounded miserable and lost. In spite of himself, Arthur wanted to go to him and hold him to his chest. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t trust that feeling anymore. He couldn’t trust anything. And he couldn’t make sense of anything. But perhaps, there’d be one person who might be able to make sense of things for him, he realized with a jolt. One person who obviously knew Merlin’s secret, he realized now, and who would understand the depths of this betrayal. He walked out of the tent, unnaturally calm, not looking back at the man he’d left trembling on the ground behind him.

***

Old Arthur and Old Merlin were fighting when he entered their tent. He didn’t care what they were fighting about.

“Not now,” Old Arthur snapped at him, his eyes wild. Old Merlin glanced at him, distracted for a moment. Arthur could see he was holding on to one of the tent railings, still not strong enough to support himself after whatever happened earlier that evening. He washed down the protectiveness that surged inside him. He couldn’t trust his emotions anymore. “You’re a sorcerer,” he said, his voice calm. “Of course, you are. That’s how you planned to kill them, isn't it? I thought you’d collected some secret magic artifact, but no, you were using your own magic.”

They both turned to him now.

“That’s how you got here as well, isn’t it? How you travelled through time,” Arthur continued, his face still unreadable. “I’ve been a fool.”

“Arthur-” Old Merlin said, stepping one foot forward. Arthur raised his sword to his chest and looked at his face. This was not his Merlin. This Merlin he would be able to kill. “Get out,” he told him, “before I run you through where you stand.”

Old Arthur made a sound of protest and stepped in front of the sword, but Old Merlin pushed him back and shook his head. “I’ll leave” Old Arthur’s lips thinned but he supported him as he made his way to settle down outside in front of the fire and then came back into the tent with disappointment etched onto his face.

“You had no right to do that,” Old Arthur said quietly, his eyes piercing, “Merlin just risked his life to try to save you all. You should be thanking him.”

“He’s a sorcerer.” Arthur spat, “How can you trust him?”

“He’s still Merlin. He’s the same person he’s always been.”

“And who is that, exactly? Because from where I’m standing, I never knew him at all.”

“He’s still the same man who drank poison for you. Who advises you and protects you and takes care of you every single day.”

And god, if Arthur hadn’t only just been contemplating all of those things. If he hadn’t only just realized how deeply he cared for Merlin, how much the man meant to him. His gut panged at realizing how much he’d lost.

“And yet he betrayed me,” Arthur’s voice cracked, “Like Morgana. Like Agravaine.”

“Never,” Old Arthur replied, his eyes hard, “Merlin would never betray you. He lied to you, yes, but to protect you. Morgana and Agravaine wanted to hurt you. Merlin never did. He hurt himself instead. You have no idea of the sacrifices he’s made for you, the ones he will continue to make for you no matter how much you try to stop him.”

“And you do?” Arthur demanded.

“I’ve had time. I’ve asked questions. Every day, I learn more about him, and I get to know him better. I’ve spent years beside him. Not beside Merlin, my manservant, but beside Merlin, my consort, and the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth, watching him devote himself completely to protecting me and Camelot. Years to understand the depths of his devotion to me, which you cannot possibly, at this moment, even begin to understand. But you might, one day, if you give him a chance to show you. If you listen. And then, if you’re anything like me, you’ll regret every time you’ve hurt him because God knows that man has known enough pain in his life.”  
  
Old Arthur looked wretched as the dark circles under his eyes were given sharp relief by the firelight. He looked older, as if the extra years of knowledge had weighed heavily on him. Arthur found himself compelled to believe him, and compelled into caution. But the fact remained that the man his future self was speaking of wasn’t one that Arthur knew. Not completely anyway. 

“I want to forgive him, for the lies and the secrets.” Arthur finally admitted, “But he was my best friend, and he’s been lying to me about who he really is since the day we met,” Arthur repeated, “I don’t know that I can forgive him for that. Or that I can trust him again. Not for some time.”

“Well, I don’t know that you have much time.” Old Arthur frowned now, looking at where the light of the fire, somehow still burning, cast shadows against the tent. “In fact, you may only have today.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Merlin’s planning to sacrifice himself to save Camelot. Again,” Arthur replied wearily, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

***

“Explain what you're up to.” Arthur demanded, striding up to Old Merlin, who was now sitting around the fire with Merlin, making strange gestures in the air. "What are you planning?" Arthur could see Merlin nearly jump out of his skin in the corner of his eyes, but he was resolutely avoiding eye contact. He didn’t have time for that now- not when there may be another way to save Camelot. Old Merlin looked back up at him warily, and gestured to the log in front of him. Arthur hesitated, and then sat down, waiting.

“It didn’t make sense to me, initially- any of it. I’m supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Even with all the magic he stole, the sorcerer who did this shouldn’t have been a match for me. And I could sense, back in our time, that he wasn’t.”

“You could sense his magic?” Arthur asked, curious in spite of himself.

“I could,” Old Merlin nodded, “I can, for any sorcerer. Magic is alive. I can feel it when it’s around me. If I concentrate, I can see it as well. It molds itself to whomever wields it. Usually it’s one color. But his…his wasn’t one color, but many colors wrapped around each other, because he stole most of his magic. Still, its volume and strength paled in comparison to mine. He would have been easily defeated. I had thought that was why he travelled back in time. Time magic is something not many sorcerers dabble with, because of the severity of the potential consequences, but the magic itself is not that complex. He had enough magic to do it, and he’d be going up against a less powerful version of me, one who had...reservations about using his magic, one who was untrained,” Old Merlin glanced briefly at his younger self sadly. “But the magic he’s wielded is far more powerful than even mine, which makes me think maybe he came back to this time for a different reason. Not to go up against a less powerful Camelot, but to access a more powerful magic. To draw from a more powerful magical source.”

“Like a celestial event?” Merlin asked, eyes widening. He shrunk back when Arthur turned to look at him questioningly. He looked at ground but answered the unspoken question. “It’s a way to access the magic of the earth. Of the moon and stars, of space.” Merlin shuddered. He’d never attempted to try harnessing such magic himself, fearing its power. He already had enough trouble controlling his own magic.

“I thought about that,” Old Merlin continued, “but traveling back in time is unreliable magic. And he had nowhere near the control of his magic that I do. He’d have no guarantee of landing in the right time for a celestial event. No, I don’t think he was trying to harness the magic of space. I think he was trying to harness the magic of time. Specifically, of a time paradox.”

“Touch,” Merlin realized, closing his eyes, “Between the same person from two different times. Did it kill him?”

“It did,” Old Merlin replied, “I can still feel him. Out there. But there is only one of him, and his magic is purer now than it was in my time.”

“So the version of him that came from your time…that version’s dead?”

Old Merlin nodded. “I believe he was able to draw all of the magic between them into himself, so the younger version of him would survive. I’ve had practice with such methods. I think I can do that too. I believe I can harness the magic the time paradox will create between us,” Old Merlin gestured between him and his younger self “to destroy the krofancs and I believe I can draw the remainder of its energy into myself so only one of us is consumed by its power.”

“But then you’ll die,” Arthur said, his quiet voice loud in the silence of the night.

Old Arthur and Old Merlin looked at each other, their faces unreadable.

“Yes,” Old Merlin replied softly, “I’ll die.”

***

“And there is no other way?” Arthur asked “There are two of me too. Why can’t you use us?” he asked, gesturing between him and his future self.

Merlin looked up at him sharply, his lips thinning in protest. Old Arthur looked at him resignedly, as if this was an argument he’d been making, without much success, all night. But Arthur was most taken aback when Old Merlin just sighed irritably, looking between the two Arthurs, “You’re both insufferable,” he said finally, “Arthur and I have agreed that we’re using me.” Old Merlin looked pointedly at Old Arthur, who frowned, looking older than he ever had. “I haven’t said yes yet,” he said, his voice hard. Old Merlin glared at him.

“Arthur…” Merlin pleaded, reaching out to cover Arthur’s hands with his own. Arthur stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “Let me do this. For you. For Camelot. Give me this chance to prove myself to you. To earn back your trust.”

“By dying?” Arthur sounded strangled.

“If everything goes as planned, I’ll have a good number of years in me yet,” Merlin replied, his voice steady now, “That’s more than most knights are promised when going into battle.”

“But they’re not ensured a death sentence upon their return,” Arthur snapped, withdrawing his hands, “Camelot is my responsibility. If anyone should have to sacrifice to save her, it should be me.”

“I’ll have better control of the magic if it’s linked between us,” Old Merlin interjected, “A better chance I can draw the magic completely into myself to prevent killing us both. A better chance of success in killing the krofancs. There is too much at stake here to risk failing this mission. _Camelot_ is at stake.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but the protest died in his throat. He couldn’t risk failing Camelot. He felt, not for the first time, helpless under the weight of his duty. He looked at his older self, who looked back at him wearily, his mouth downturned and his eyes tired.

***

“Come back to me,” Old Arthur whispered to Old Merlin, their foreheads touching as they stood against the cave’s entrance. “You’re supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Promise me that you can do this and still come back to me.” His fingers twisted almost painfully in Old Merlin’s hair as he released a broken sob.

“I love you, Arthur Pendragon,” Old Merlin replied, his voice strong, “You’re the greatest king Albion’s ever known and you will to continue to be that. Even without me. You’re stronger than you know. And I will always be with you, even if you can’t see me.” Old Merlin placed a hand over Old Arthur’s chest, feeling his heart beat reassuringly under his palm.

***

Arthur, meanwhile, was telling his knights the truth. “No more secrets,” he told Merlin, pulling him into the circle with them. Mordred seemed utterly unfazed by the news, and looked at them both consideringly. Lancelot was smiling encouragingly at Merlin. Leon, Elyan and Percival regarded Merlin with caution but, Merlin was relieved to notice, not fear or anger. Gwaine just walked straight through the crowd to gather Merlin into a brief, but tight hug “Knew there was something about you, Merlin,” he said smiling, clapping him on the back. Merlin grinned at the easy acceptance of his friend and hugged him back, feeling warmer.

“Yes, well,” Arthur interrupted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, “Now that you all know, I need to know if you’re on board with the plan.”

“Well, it’s not like we have a choice, do we? Gwaine shrugged, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s shoulder, “What do we have to do?”

“The same thing we were going to do before, but now we need a new clearing to draw the krofancs into. They’ll be heading eastward.”

“The Valley of the Fallen Kings?” suggested Percival.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Arthur said, “It’s barren land already and there’ll be no trees so we’ll have better visibility.”

“It’ll be crawling with wyverns,” Gwaine groaned, remembering their last adventure. Arthur remembered as well, frowning.

“That won’t be a problem,” Merlin said, “I can control the wyverns.”

Arthur looked at him blankly, “When we’re done here,” he started slowly, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Merlin flinched, but nodded miserably. “So, it’s settled then,” Merlin continued, “I’ll wait there with Merlin from the future while the rest of you draw the krofancs to the clearing.” He paused. “You should give us a wide berth once they’re in the immediate vicinity. I don’t know how the magic will affect you if you get too close. We can draw them the rest of the way in with fire.”

Arthur nodded, his throat feeling dry. “Let’s pack.”

***

Old Merlin steeled himself when he saw the first krofanc entering the clearing, lead by Lancelot. “Are you ready?” he asked Merlin, who was wringing his hands together, “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he replied, sounding panicked.

“Don’t worry,” Old Merlin replied, smiling amusedly. “This time, I’ll do all the work. You just stand there and try not to die.” Merlin raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head.

“Your hand,” Old Merlin said, holding out his own and looking behind him at the clearing, his gaze steadier as more beasts and knights entered the clearing, drawn by the unnaturally hot blue fire they’d magicked at its center. The valley of the fallen kings was always unnaturally hot and dry and this fire made it almost insufferable but it was doing its job, Merlin realized, looking behind him. The krofancs made quite a site, herded and approaching them, eyes gleaming. Even the wyverns gave the beasts a wide berth. Merlin took a deep breath and joined hands with his future self as he saw the last krofanc enter the clearing. That made 14.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then their arms started to vibrate. Merlin felt something akin to static zap up his arm and down his body, entering the ground. He felt his whole body hum, and his vision turned gold. Old Merlin looked panicked for a moment before he steeled himself and started chanting words in the old religion, his voice heavy and loud. Merlin felt rain drops on his skin. The first rain for decades in the Valley. And then suddenly, he was not inside his body anymore. He was withdrawing from it, looking down at the clearing instead, flying into the sky, weightless and bodiless. He watched as the krofancs disintegrated one by one into ash. Once the last of them went down, he realized with a panic that he couldn’t withdraw his arm. He could no longer feel it, but saw as it continued to vibrate, attached to Old Merlin’s arm below him. He watched his older self, who was still chanting and was now bathed in gold light, draw that light into himself and through the ground. The grass grew around them, flowers and plants, lakes and crevices, even small animals- butterflies and rabbits. The barren land of the Valley was barren no more. Merlin felt his body warm- a different heat than that of the valley, and suddenly his vision was shaky and he was burning up. He could see cracks form in the ground below him and future Merlin as their entire bodies started to shake, and suddenly, he was being drawn back into his body. He looked at the Merlin in front of him, who was still chanting, looking vacant, drawing the golden light into himself and sweating.

“MERLIN!” he recognized that voice behind him, and panicked, trying to pull his hand away with no luck. It was impossible. Their arms were stuck together like magnets. And then suddenly he was flung into the air by a forceful wind and everything went dark.

***

Merlin was unresponsive, Arthur realized with a panic, still calling his name and shaking his shoulder. He leaned over him where he’d been thrown by the wind and felt for a pulse. It was there. Faint, but it was there. Arthur let out a sigh of relief. Merlin was sweating, but his body was cool. Arthur looked up to where Old Merlin had exploded into the air, the land scorched below him. Old Arthur had run directly to him, and Arthur watched as his face fell and he collapsed onto the scorched ground, gasping as if struggling for breath, bloodying the ground as he punched it with his fist. There was nothing left of that Merlin. Not even ash. Unconsciously, Arthur gripped Merlin tighter below him and held him closer to his chest.

***

Arthur sat inside his tent next to Merlin, who was lying on his bedroll. Luckily, Merlin didn’t seem to have been injured in the fall, but he still hadn’t woken up. Arthur watched his future self sitting in the corner of the tent, face half hidden by shadows, watching Merlin vacantly. His hand was bandaged.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said to him, “You should…come back to the castle with us. Get some rest before you return to your time.”

“I need Merlin to go back,” Old Arthur replied, voice monotonous, “The potion is only a material. I need his magic.”

“So you’re stuck here?” Arthur asked, horrified.

“Maybe not…Merlin told me he taught your Merlin the spell to help me get back.” Old Arthur looked up at him, “What do you intend to do with him when you get back?”

Arthur hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said finally, “All I know is that I can’t lose him.”

Old Arthur nodded, face still unreadable. “I won’t be coming back with you,” he said, looking carefully at Arthur.

“Where will you go?” Arthur asked, confused. 

Old Arthur looked at him consideringly, his eyes intense. “The Lake of Avalon.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a chance Merlin isn’t dead, and if he isn’t, that’s where he’ll most likely be. Where the souls of the magical creatures rest. If he’s not there, I’ll go to the crystal caves, the birthplace of magic. Wherever he is, I’ll find him.”

Arthur looked at his future self, suddenly concerned. “Your Merlin…died. I’m sorry but he’s gone. We all saw it.”

“Merlin doesn’t just have magic. He is magic. There’s a possibility that he might be immortal. So many times over the years he should’ve died from his injuries, but he didn’t…the poison…the dorocha…the bandit’s attack…We didn’t want to tell either of you,” Old Arthur said, looking up to where Arthur was staring back at him, shocked. “We were worried about what that knowledge might do to the two of you. But you should know. That there’s a chance he might still live. It’s the only reason I allowed him to do this.”

“And he is alive,” Old Arthur continued, his voice sure and steady, “I can feel it. He’s not gone. He’s waiting for me.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say. “If you find him…”

“If I find him, we won’t be coming back to your Camelot. If I find him, we’re going home.”

They both looked down when Merlin groaned and leaned into Arthur. When Arthur looked back up, Old Arthur was gone.   
  


**Epilogue**

  
Merlin was quiet when they got back to the castle, moving with a perfunctory grace Arthur had never witnessed before to clean his chambers and ready him for bed. It made him wonder how much of Merlin’s clumsiness had been an act too. Before he knew it, Arthur was in bed, bathed and changed, warm from the blazing fire, and Merlin was leaning over him to blow out the last candle. He would leave after this, back to his chambers, out of Arthur’s sight. Before he realized what he was doing, Arthur reached out to circle Merlin’s wrist with his fingers.

“Stay,” he said softly, feeling Merlin’s pulse quicken under his thumb.

Merlin made a strange noise and nodded, turning to walk to the servant’s quarters adjoining Arthur’s room, but Arthur pulled him back, fingers still wrapped around Merlin’s wrist.

When Merlin turned back questioningly, Arthur released his wrist and shuffled over on the bed in such a way that left no room for misinterpretation. Merlin looked at him intently for a moment and then stepped back and Arthur’s heart lurched for a second before he realized Merlin was only taking off his jacket. He reached around his neck to untie his neckerchief and sat down on the armchair by the bed to take off his boots and socks, laying everything down neatly beside him. He approached the bed and slowly settled under the covers, rigid and still, barely breathing, staring fixedly at the ceiling. 

Arthur turned so he was laying on his front and wrapped a hand around Merlin’s arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He felt Merlin relax under his ministrations, and soon enough, he heard the light snore that told him Merlin had fallen asleep. Arthur wasn’t far behind him, exhaustion finally settling into his bones. He fell asleep watching the rise and fall of Merlin's chest. 

***

The light of dawn started to bleed through Arthur’s windows, waking him up. He looked at where his left hand was still wrapped around Merlin’s arm and released it so that he could shuffle closer. He raised himself on his elbow to look down at Merlin where he was sleeping peacefully beside him.

Merlin looked younger in his sleep. His mouth was slightly open and his brow was smooth, for once not wrinkled with lines of worry. Arthur discovered a stray eyelash on his cheek and removed it with his forefinger, but the touch woke Merlin.

Merlin opened his eyes, looked at him and smiled, his eyes bleary and unfocused. He smacked his dry lips together and sniffed.

“Hi,” he said, his voice small and soft.

“Hi,” Arthur replied, tracing one of Merlin’s cheekbones with his thumb. Merlin shivered under his touch, closing his eyes. Arthur leaned down to peck him once on the lips, brief and chaste, before pulling back.

Merlin gasped softly under him, opening his eyes. He looked at Arthur with such longing in his expression that it took Arthur’s breath away, to be wanted that much. “Are you sure?” Merlin whispered.

Arthur nodded- almost imperceptibly, but Merlin caught it, his eyes sparkling. He bent forward to chase Arthur’s lips but Arthur pushed him back down, wrapping an arm around his waist and ducking his face into Merlin’s neck. Merlin whined. “Not now,” he whispered into Merlin’s ear, “Not like this. We’re going to do this right. First, we’re going to get a couple more hours of sleep, because it’s barely dawn and neither of us should be awake. And then, when we wake up, we’re going to have breakfast and you’re going to tell me all of the things you’ve been keeping from me, starting from the day we met. We’re going to take our time, Merlin. And when we’re done, when there are no more secrets between us, and when you don’t have morning breath-” Arthur swallowed a laugh as Merlin kicked his shin. He held him tighter around the waist “- then, we’ll explore this. I have a feeling it’s going to be well worth the wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to onceandfutureemrys for the image/post- Link here: https://onceandfutureemrys.tumblr.com/post/616763730677661696/dunno-if-this-has-been-done-yet-but-imagine-this 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this story! I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to finish it without all the encouragement from you all. Hope I was able to wrap it up properly and do the story justice.
> 
> Just an added note after reading some of the comments: 
> 
> The way I envisioned the ending, Old Merlin is alive. He wakes up floating on the lake of Avalon, and swims to the shore to find Old Arthur waiting there for him (I thought it’d be poetic since the same thing will happen in reverse at some point). Arthur embraces him, they take the potion together and travel back home, to their Camelot, where they spend a good amount of time with each other, rediscovering what they mean to each other and trying to make up for the fact that they almost lost each other again. 
> 
> The reason I wanted to leave it open-ended though is because there were just so many interesting directions to potentially take the story from there and I thought I could just leave the reunion up to your imagination. Maybe at some point- not in the near future because things are pretty hectic- I'll write a part 2. if I do- I'll probably take it in a different direction where Arthur's on a journey to find Merlin and there are plenty of flashbacks with hidden clues, and maybe it's another adventure. I'd also be happy for one of you guys to take the reigns and run with it too if you'd like. 
> 
> Ultimately, I really do believe they'll always find their way back to each other, whatever the circumstances. Two halves of the same coin and all.


End file.
